


Under The Mistletoe

by monarchofnewyork (orphan_account)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/monarchofnewyork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mistletoe is something useless, unless someone you fancy is under it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so: this isn't beta'd, and none of my future works will be (most likely).  
> Anyway, I wrote this in honour to Christmas this year! I hope you like it
> 
> [In case you want to contact me because I rarely come here: http://enjlrsass.tumblr.com]

 Grantaire looked at the mistletoe with scorn. He had passed the last hours waiting for someone to realise how useless that thing was, and to take it out of his door. Unfortunately, he was the only one who thought there.

 He looked away to the Christmas tree, watching his friends, and sister, opening the remaining presents. She looked at him smiling, after opening his present to her. He gave her a small smile, and watched her continuing to talk to Éponine Thénardier.

 He walked over the kitchen table, which was covered with a Christmas themed towel, and various Christmas sweets on top. He took a slice of Yule log, and a fork, with which he ate the cake. Grantaire threw both fork and plate, since they were plastic, to the dustbin, and cleaned his mouth to a napkin, which he threw into the dustbin as well. He was walking near the pile of presents to check his, when the door opened.

 “Am I this late?”

 Grantaire looked up to the door and saw Enjolras, a blond-haired politics student who he fancied, “Not really, I arrived about 10 minutes ago.”

 “Good”, Enjolras walked towards the Christmas tree, and placed the only present he had under the tree.

 “That’s to who?”, asked Grantaire, pointing to the present.

 “You”, he replied, with a nervous smile.

 “Really?”, Grantaire grabbed the present and opened it. The box had various types of pencils, and brushes. He looked at it, stunned.

 “Oh god, you don’t like it”, Enjolras murmured, “of course, you don’t like it. I probably bough that when I-“

 “I love it”, Grantaire smiled, and closed the box, “Thank you.”

 “What, really?”

 “Yes. I was actually in need of some of these”, he wiggled the box.

 “You’re welcome.”

 Enjolras walked away to the kitchen, and Grantaire felt someone touch his shoulder. He turned around and saw his sister, “What, Laure?”

 “How’s Monsieur Enjolras?”, she asked, smirking.

 “Shut up”, he rolled his eyes.

 “Hey, what’s that?”, she took the box from his hands, and shook it. “Grantaire, what’s this?”

 “Enjolras’ present, for me”, he said, taking it from Laure’s hands.

 She smirked, “I bet it’s some yarn ugly sweater saying ‘I love you Grantaire’, or something like that.”

 Grantaire blushed, and lightly smacked her in the head, “Shut up.”

 “What? You’re still denying what happened in Halloween?”

 “Nothing happened in Halloween, okay? Enjolras was drunk, he didn’t know what he was saying.”

 Laure sighed, “Believe in what you want, Grantaire.”

 He walked towards the kitchen table, and stared at it for a moment, before realising that he was not hungry and that he did not know the reason he had come there, in first place.

 Someone bumped against him, “Sorry.”

 “It’s okay”, he murmured, running a finger through the coating of the Yule log, and licking it. He turned to the person – Courfeyrac – who had bumped against him, “You didn’t saw a thing, Courf’, all right?”, he started to walk away.

 Courfeyrac snickered, “Right. By the way, Grantaire...”

 “Yeah?”, he turned around, to face Courfeyrac.

 “You should get under the mistletoe, I didn’t hang that shit for nothing.”

 “Why’s that?”

 “Enjolras _might_ have asked, more like _begged_ actually, me to hang it, so he could kiss you.”

 “What?”

 “You heard me. Now, get under that thing”, Courfeyrac replied, smiling, and slapping Grantaire’s arm slightly.

 Some minutes after, Grantaire was looking at the mistletoe once more, from under it this time.

 “Hi.”

 He lowered his head, facing Enjolras, who was standing in front on him, slightly smiling, with his arms crossed.

 “Oh hi”, he gave the mistletoe a brief glance, “what do you think of that?”

 “Usually, it’s useless. But in this case...”

 “In this case what?”

 “You’re the one under it”, he walked towards Grantaire, “you know what they say.”

 “I really don’t.”

 Enjolras rolled his eyes, “You know what you’re supposed to do under the useless thing?”, he asked, placing a hand on the top of Grantaire’s shoulder, making him blush violently, and nod negatively slowly. Enjolras leant in, and whispered, “You’re supposed to kiss the other person, you idiot.”

 Grantaire’s eyes widened as soon as Enjolras pressed their lips together.

 He slowly closed his eyes, moved his hands to Enjolras’ cheeks and kissed him back.

 The kiss itself lasted for not too long, although it seemed an eternity to Grantaire. They eventually pulled apart.

 "Am I still an idiot?", Grantaire asked, smirking, some time after they parted.

 "Yes", Enjolras replied, firmly. He then gave Grantaire a smile, "But you're _my_ idiot. And I love you."


End file.
